Part I—Chapter 14: An Invitation
"Rrargh!" Daelan growled, angry at being roused from his slumber by a dagger poking into his foot. Granted, he hadn't been sleeping that well, thoughts of a certain beautiful, furious bard haunting his dreams, but he still was not pleased. He was even less pleased when he saw his assailant.
"Sorry about that," whispered Emily as she shoved her Yawning Portal souvenir back into her belt, "but you are an incredibly difficult half-orc to wake."
"What do you want, Emily?" he hissed, already dreading the answer.
"I want you to talk to Sharwyn," she replied.
"Now? You can't be serious!"
"Of course I'm serious," she said with a huff. "We just had this conversation a few hours ago, didn't we?"
It had indeed been only a few hours since they had rescued the formian queen. True to her word, her servants had guided them through hidden tunnels that enabled them to bypass a large regiment of drow warriors. Daelan had not particularly cared for the tunnels—they were not designed with half-orcs in mind, after all—and he was relieved when Emily had called for a rest once they emerged. His back ached after being hunched over for so long, and he had hoped to begin working out what he planned on saying to Sharwyn when the time came. This, Daelan felt, was not that time.
"I still don't know what I'm going to tell her," he protested, but the cleric's face was stubborn. "Besides, this isn't a good time—"
"It's the perfect time!" Emily interrupted. "I just finished my turn at watch, and I asked Sharwyn to take over for me. If you go talk to her now, you'll have as much privacy as you're ever going to get. Unless you want to profess your love for her with the rest of us all staring at you…"
Daelan glared fiercely at her. To her credit, she only flinched slightly and continued to hold his gaze.
"Fine," he finally snapped at her. "I'll talk to her. But if this goes poorly, let it be on your head."
"It won't, but it would be nice to have something else on my head. I never thought it would be this cold underground…" She pulled her scarf tighter around her head and shivered. He actually believed she was serious for a moment, but then she winked at him. "Go on, now, or I'll poke you in the foot again."
Daelan growled under his breath, but he got up and began the slow walk to where Sharwyn sat. She was facing away from him, her bow resting on her knees, her sword at her side. Her back was perfectly straight, and her long red hair flowed nearly to the ground. Already he could feel his palms growing moist, and he was only looking at her from behind. How could he possible speak to her face-to-face?
She noticed his approach, glancing quickly up at him before turning away just as quickly. "I do not wish to speak with you," she said, her voice hard as ice.
Daelan dropped to the ground with a thud. This wasn't starting off well. He looked over his shoulder, hoping to see Emily giving him some gesture of encouragement, but the cleric was apparently already sleeping. He fought back another growl and took a deep breath. "I'm sure you don't, Sharwyn, but there is something I need to tell you."
She continued to stare pointedly out into the darkness. "I can think of nothing that has happened recently that we could possibly need to talk about," she said crisply.
Daelan clenched his fists. He didn't want to be doing this, and clearly neither did she. Maybe Emily had been wrong. Maybe Sharwyn didn't feel anything for him anymore, if she ever had. Still, he had hurt her, however unintentionally, and he felt the need to at least try to make that right. "Very well," he said, his throat growing suddenly tight. "I do want to say that I'm sorry for what happened. I did not mean to hurt you in any way. I would never want that…"
She tossed her hair and sighed. "You have nothing to apologize for, Daelan," she said, looking down at the bow in her lap. Her words surprised him, and he didn't know how to respond. After a moment, she continued, her voice weary with resignation. "You'd think I would have learned by now, not to let my heart go so easily, but I supposed I'm just a hopeless romantic. Those were always my favorite tales to tell as a girl, you know. A handsome man falls in love with a beautiful woman, and after overcoming many obstacles—usually of the monstrous variety—they would get married and live happily ever after. But the real world doesn't work like that." She plucked her bowstring, an agitated gesture. "The drow girl is very pretty," she said softly, her eyes fixed on her weapon. "It is not surprising to me that you would notice. Pretty women are a dime a dozen, after all, and I'm no different than all the rest. I can't think of a single man I've known who wouldn't have done the same."
"Then those men are fools!" Daelan's outburst surprised them both. He was suddenly furious, but with whom he wasn't sure. Sharwyn? These other faceless men? Himself? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to control his rage.
When he opened them again, Sharwyn was staring at him. Her brown eyes were apprehensive, but she seemed to be waiting for something. An explanation, Daelan supposed. Only he didn't have the faintest idea of where to start. He knew he needed to break the silence, though, so he said, "Your beauty is unimportant, Sharwyn."
This comment caused her eyes to narrow angrily. Obviously this was not the way to proceed. Daelan cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Not to say that you're not beautiful, Sharwyn, because you are, truly, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," he said quickly. Her gaze softened slightly but not enough to make him feel at ease. He looked away with a snarl, frustrated with himself for his inability to express his feelings. Maybe it would be easier if he didn't look at her.
Fixing his eyes on a point off in the distance, he began again, speaking slowly and deliberately. "What I meant to say is that your beauty, while obviously quite remarkable, is not what makes you different from those other pretty women. It's… it's your passion for… well, for everything. The way you sing, for example, capturing the audience's attention with a loud chorus, drawing them close with a soft passage, never for a moment allowing the music to distract from the tale, instead combining them both into a celebration of all of life's joys and sorrows. The first time I heard you sing, I… I felt like I had been transported to another world. I had no knowledge of the people or places of which you sang, and yet I found myself caring so deeply about them, about what happened to them, rejoicing in their triumphs and mourning their losses. I had never been so captivated by anything, by anyone. And that was because of you, Sharwyn, because your passion made those characters feel more alive to me than the people sitting around me."
He chanced a glance at her. She was still watching him, her eyes wide now, her lips slightly open in astonishment at his words. A longing to kiss those lips roared up inside him, but he fought it back. He hadn't convinced her yet, he knew. What was it Emily had said? "You need to make her certain…"
"I thought at first you were simply a talented performer," he continued, returning his focus to that distant point, "but I was wrong. Fighting by your side, I saw that your passion extended to the battlefield, as well. It did not matter how strong your enemies were; if your friends were in danger, nothing would stop you from saving them short of death itself." He turned back to her, his voice more confident. "You give all of yourself in everything you do, no matter the cost to yourself, and that is not something you should be ashamed of."
She continued to stare at him in silence, but the corners of her mouth betrayed the slightest of smiles. Her cheeks were flushed, as well, and this reminded Daelan of something kept in his pocket, something he treasured. "That painting you gave me, while it is indeed lovely, does not do you justice. It captures your beauty, but not your vibrant spirit. The joy that radiates from your every smile, your every laugh… You are more than just beautiful, Sharwyn, and anyone who fails to see that does not deserve you."
A single tear ran down her cheek. Daelan froze, suddenly horrified. Have I said something wrong? By Uthgar, how did I let Emily talk me into this?! He cleared his throat and dropped his eyes to the ground. "Well, Sharwyn, that was all I wanted to tell you," he mumbled. "I will disturb you no longer. Good night."
He moved to rise but was stopped by her hand on his arm. "Daelan, wait," Sharwyn whispered.
He looked up, startled to find her much closer to him than she had been a moment ago, much closer than she had ever been before. Her eyes were shining like stars, and her smile was like a brilliant moonbeam. She seemed about to say something, but no words came from her lips. Finally she dropped her eyes with laugh that sent shivers up and down his spine. He found himself staring at her eyelashes, and he knew with absolute certainty that no woman in the Realms had eyelashes that were more beautiful. He wondered if he should tell her so, but then she looked up at him again and all thoughts of talking floated away.
"Daelan," she said, her voice tremulous, as though she would laugh again at any moment, "I have spent many sleepless nights thinking of the perfect thing to say to at a moment like this, and I—now, I know you won't believe me, I can hardly believe it myself—but I honestly can't remember a single word. I had a whole, beautiful speech prepared, and all of it is simply gone!"
Daelan thought something like this would normally upset a bard as proud of her work as Sharwyn, but to his surprise she didn't seem bothered at all. In fact, she looked strangely pleased. Nothing was making any sense tonight.
Suddenly he found that his hands were inside hers, felt her fingers lace through his own. Her fingertips were callused from where she held her bow, but otherwise they were remarkably smooth. He felt his heartbeat quickening in his chest, but for once it was not motivated by rage.
Sharwyn was smiling at him, a smile somehow both earnest and coy. "I suppose there's only one thing left that I can do," she murmured softly, and she kissed him.
When Daelan looked back on this night, as he often did in the weeks to come, he would marvel at how the two times Sharwyn kissed him that day could be so different. Their first kiss was passionate, yes, but in a harsh, almost violent way. That kiss was an attack. This kiss, on the other hand, was soft and gentle, and it filled him with a warmth and joy that he couldn't properly explain. It lasted mere seconds, but upon seeing her face as she pulled away, he knew he would never forget it as long as he lived. He also knew that there would be many more kisses to come, for this kiss was an invitation.
He cupped her face in his hand and stroked her cheek. "Sharwyn, I—" he faltered, unable to say what was in his heart.
She placed a finger on his lips. "Shhhh," she whispered. "No more words tonight, Daelan."
He nodded and slowly pulled her closer, some small part of him still afraid that she would jerk away. But she didn't, and sooner than he dared to hope he was kissing her again. The rest of the world melted away, and nothing existed except the two of them. Nothing, that is, until…
"Aww!" said a high-pitched voice, ringing unbearably loud in the silence.
"SHHHH!" came three sharp voices at once, crashing through the air like a sudden gale.
They quickly separated. Snapped out of his euphoria, Daelan could now hear the sound of a quill scratching, an elf sniffling, and a halfling snickering. Emily alone was silent, but she wasn't able to close her eyes before he spotted her staring. He felt his cheeks heating up and his temper rising, but when he looked back at Sharwyn she was smiling. "I'd better get back to my watch," she said softly, her face covered in a rosy glow. "You should get some rest while you can."
Rest was the last thing Daelan wanted at that moment because it would mean being separated from her, but he knew she had a job to do. He kissed her cheek and was pleased to see her smile grow wider. "Good night, then, my lady," he whispered.
As he walked back to his bedroll, he heard Tomi snickering again. "'My lady,' well I never," the thief chuckled, and he continued chuckling until a large foot found its way into his chest. Daelan saw a feather peeking out from under Deekin's blanket, moving too much in the still underground air, and he noticed Linu rubbing her nose on her cloak, trying to be nonchalant but not fooling anyone. When he passed Emily, her eyes were open again, and she smiled openly at him. The expression on her face practically screamed "I told you so!" and he had to smile back, for as hard as it was for him to believe, she had been right. Completely, wonderfully right.